Sand of Time
by Tree of Angels
Summary: Gaara has lost the one tail to Akatsuki. Can he learn to live like a regular shinobi now that he is no longer a Jinchuriki host? GaaraxHinata but I'm not sure if it's just platonic or romantic...UP FOR ADOPTION...PM Me for details
1. Chapter 1

He hated this. The emptiness that was once so comforting, now only brought him closer to despair. The once powerful, feared Gaara of the Sand was now a handicap and a useless burden. He wanted to break something, do something to prove that he was still strong. How could it be, that the moment the demon was finally gone and it seemed like he could finally have peace, the demon still held sway? He had relied heavily on the creature; he had been sure that the monster would be inside him for the rest of his life. Now it was gone and the Kazekage was afraid to test his newly formed boundaries. He hadn't picked up a shuriken since that fateful day when he was brought back to life.

There was white everywhere, and darkness so deep. He was part of it all. There was no constraint, nothing like a prison. He flowed and turned and sank into the very depths of light and dark. He felt whole and part of a whole. He was at peace. There was no reason to be scared and he wasn't. He didn't feel anything but bliss. That's how it should have been anyway but his bliss was tainted, like so many others before him, with a sharp feeling of regret, of things left undone. Suddenly, he felt a painful pull, dragging him from the numbing bliss. It hurt so much, the pain that he had rarely known when he had been alive. He grabbed at it. He needed it because it made him feel alive. He wasn't ready to merge, he wasn't ready to die. Despite all that, it shouldn't have worked. But it did.

The first thing he was aware of was the painful pounding of his heart against his chest. It was dry, without life, trying to restore what could never be replaced. Then he discovered breath. The air rushed in, warm and painful, stretching his muscles uncomfortably. It felt like he was breaking into a thousand pieces. Than the blood rushed in, soothing and rough, giving life. It calmed the trembling muscles, gave substance to the beating heart. It hurt. Maybe he didn't want to live; it was so painful, so alone. Nobody cared. Nobody understood. He was just a monster.

He was slipping back into the numbness when he heard a voice. It was familiar yet he couldn't place it. It seemed so far away. "Gaara!" it called. Who was Gaara? He looked down. He was in a prison again, his body. It was his, wasn't it. He looked around. So alone. He wasn't part of a whole anymore. He was a monster. "Gaara!" That was his name, wasn't it? Who was calling him? He felt a warm presence behind him. There was a slight pressure on his shoulder. He looked over. Naruto…The blond was beaming at him cheerfully, like he always did. His hand was resting against Gaara's shoulder. The years hadn't changed him much. "Gaara," Naruto said as if to reassure him that that was who he was.

That's right…he wasn't alone… He was Kazekage. He wanted to go home. "Naruto…" Naruto grinned and held out his hand. His people needed their leader to live. Gaara reached out, becoming fully aware of his body and surroundings. He was alive. He could feel his heart beating strongly inside him, as if to make up for the lost time.

His muscles were still weak as he used Naruto's help to sit up. His eyes winded slightly. How could he have not missed this? The wind, the grass, the flow of blood, the well known faces of his villagers, his siblings' banter. Temari was knealing next to him, Kankuro standing in front of him and Naruto was standing on Gaara's other side. His student was struggling past the crowd, her face lit up and her eyes eager. It almost made him smile. There were people crying. They were crying for him. He had never thought he would mean so much to his people to warrant such happiness…

But there was something wrong. The only way he could be alive…the only reason… Elder Chiyo. But it couldn't be. She didn't want anything to do with Gaara. Gaara looked up at Naruto. It must be. "You have the power to change people," Naruto's teacher said. Gaara searched for her. He found her in Sakura's trembling arms. Chiyo looked so vulnerable like that, almost like a child. She had saved him with her life.

Gaara strained against the last constraints of death, and tried to force his trembling legs to do what he said. There was a rush as the villagers went to help him. He pushed them gently away. The world was rocking unsteadily beneath him. He got part of the way up before he almost collapsed but a warm comforting hand grabbed him by the arm and helped him the rest of the way up. He didn't have to look to know that it had been Naruto. Gaara, with Naruto's constant presence at his side, walked forward until he stood but a few feet from Elder Chiyo's body and Sakura's crying form. "Let us honor her." There was silence as prayers and wishes were mouthed.

Gaara could no longer remember that place where he had gone with clarity but a warmth remained. He was sure that she would like it there. It had been her time. He would be forever grateful.

The wind rattled against the window, somehow managing to slip through some miniscule cracks to ruffle Gaara's hair as he sat on his desk. It had been a week since then and Naruto and his friends had already left to take care of their own injuries. Naruto had done so much for him. How could he have forgotten? How could he have been so willing to through it all away for fear of disappointment?

He turned his chair to look through the round window to the desert beyond. Gaara let out a frustrated sigh and stood up. Sulking was over. He marched determinedly out the door, slamming it behind him. The papers left on the desk ruffled forlornly at the resulting gust of wind.

**AN: I wrote this right before I decided that Gaara did not use Shukaku's chakra on a regular basis...but I posted it anyway...Should I continue? Tell me what you think. Any plot ideas are welcome!**


	2. Chapter 2

The wind was warm and dry against his cheek as he hoisted his sand gourd onto his back. An unexpected sense of relief swamped through him as the weight settled comfortably against him. It was almost as if he had been missing a limb and had finally gotten it back. Why did he keep forgetting the things most important to him, he thought. After draping his Kazekage robes across the only chair, he stood staring at the strange contraption that now nestled against the farthest wall. It's not like he had never seen a bed before, but to see it in his room…was unsettling. It had always been obvious to him that humans needed to sleep, but why so long? What did you do for so many hours?

Gaara had been trying to sleep ever since he had gotten back to the Sand Village. It hadn't worked. The Kazekage eyed the soft mattress with something akin to dread and disdain. He let out a snort as if to dismiss the useless piece of furniture; he had better things to do than close his eyes and stare into darkness.

He glanced at the door and then at the open window. Going through the door would mean having to put up with his subordinates when all he wanted to do was to be left alone. Going through the window, however, would pose a problem if he didn't have enough chakra. He stood thinking for a couple of minutes before he decided that there really wasn't a choice. He was going out to test his new boundaries, right? That meant…he shifted his gourd slightly, took a running start and jumped out of the five story high window.

The wind whistled past his ears without restraint. His red hair lashed against his cheeks like thousands of miniscule whips. He felt his heart beat rapidly against his chest and adrenaline rush through his entire body, making his skin tingle. So this was what it felt like. He had forgotten. He closed his eyes briefly and just felt. And it finally hit him. He was alive.

This revelation happened in less than a minute. His eyes snapped open so quickly that it was more like he had blinked. He didn't have to glance down to know that he was perilously close to the ground. He mentally groped around, looking for that source of power, the core of all his training and years of death. It was taking him too long. The ground was speeding towards him with exhilarating speed that could very well prove to be his death. But never let it be said that Gaara of the Sand died because he jumped out of a window and wasn't fast enough. It was just absurd. That was what was running through his mind as he kept on coming up empty handed. There was barely more than a couple of feet between him and the deadly ground. He closed his eyes and groped desperately for absolutely anything that might stop the fall. And that's when he found it, sending out trendals of blazing fire, at home in the place that used to be occupied only by a darkness that went by the name of Shukaku.

He yanked at it. With it as his voice he called down at the trillion grains of sand waiting at the bottom, now barely a foot away. There was a slight sucking sound as he collided with the ground and passed through it. The sand was barely whispers against his skin as he continued to fall past ground level. He waited until the friction between him and the sand had slowed him down before making a compact landing space. He breathed in the grainy smell of his surroundings, completely at home under twenty feet of sand. He watched with seemingly disinterested eyes as the remaining sand particles settled among its brethren. His surroundings were slightly moist and dark; even the Sun did not dare penetrate its gaze so deeply into the Earth.

With one last deep breath, he extended out his arms above him, feeling the sand shift comfortably against him. With a burst of chakra, he tunneled his way out into the open air.

His hair was made almost white with sand and he could even feel small particles lodged on top of his eyelashes. He shook the sand out in a way that calls to mind Kiba, Naruto's dog-like comrade. Brushing out the robe that he wore underneath the more formal Kazekage robe, he proceeded to search for a place where he could work on his chakra in peace. He was sure to remind himself that it had to be someplace where Temari couldn't find him when she was notified that he was not in his office.

He had wandered off a couple of miles from his village when he caught a curious glimpse of dark blue and white before it disappeared behind a small dune. Well aware that it might be a genjutsu, he proceeded with care. He uncorked his gourd by hand, not wishing to waste precious chakra for such a simple task. With his chakra enhanced sand ready for use, he skirted around the dune. The sand settled back down quietly into the gourd as the Kazekage stood, transfixed by the sight before him.

The hands were the first thing he saw. Swift, thin and white as the moon, they stood proudly and gracefully for a second before turning into a blur until they stopped again a few seconds later. Then came the wrists and a little skin of the arm that peeked from under the sleeves. As white as the hands, the wrists were slim but strong, hints of muscle rippling under the smooth skin as they moved to follow the hands. Then Gaara's gaze settled on the shoulders, slightly broader than conventional beauty allowed and partly hidden by the ruffles of a hood. He could not see her face. Curiosity burned in him as he was forced to contemplate her long blue hair instead of look on her face. He watched the beautiful mane move in waves as the woman turned rapidly, too fast for him to see her face.

He forcefully pulled himself out of his stupor just in time to block the kunai headed toward his head.

**AN: It shouldn't be too hard to guess who that was. :) Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Wow! It's been so long! I'm soooo sorry. My computer crashed and I've been sick for weeks. It has not been fun. Well here it is! Hope you like it. :)**

He could feel the sand move barely fast enough to block the knife. It felt like stretching a muscle overdue for some use. The sand felt heavy, reminding him painfully of his neglect. The sand surged forward, more by instinct than anything else. It rushed up and covered the beautiful body that had attempted to kill him. Gaara watched as if in a daze as his own white hand outstretched in front of him, the fingers wide apart, trembling as the chakra traveled through his fingers. Then the fingers closed and a loud voice interrupted the silence. "Sand Coffin." It was his own. The sand squeezed tight like a muscle, an extension of his very body.

His eyes narrowed slightly as the sand trembled before sliding away at his beckoning. The sand returned to him, begging for blood. The place where the body should've been was empty. There was a slight shuffle behind him, enough to alert him but barely. He whipped around. The wind had suddenly picked up, as if bemoaning the fight that had started below. He felt his red hair slap almost painfully against the edges of his cheeks and forehead. The hair almost blinded him as his sand blocked one beautiful chakra laced hand after another. He growled in agitation. Now was not the time to be hampered down by such a careless thing as hair length.

The figure twirled away, the movement so fast that, despite his best attempts, Gaara could still not see the woman's face. His bangs swept once more in front of his eyes, aided by the wind. Gaara almost felt like yelling at the desert, asking what side the desert was on. That was when he decided that enough was enough. With a motion more ingrained in his muscles than conscious, he extended his shield in front of him. He saw a blurr of purple and white charge towards him once more. This time his shield wouldn't stop her. It was too weak, just like he wanted. The moment one strong, beautiful hand connected with his sand, he felt it collapse under the wieght. There was a small stumble as the enemy was caught by surprise. It was enough. Suddenly his sand had ensnared the arm of his attacker. It was crawling up slowly and hardening as it went. The woman tried to tug her arm away futilly. Then she froze.

Gaara watched with a sort of transfixed amusement as the woman's full lips opened slightly in shock. Her clear, white eyes widened...white eyes...It took Gaara a fraction of a second to realize who she must be. A Hyuuga from Konohagakure. As he studied her angelic face, he was startled to find it slightly familiar. Didn't Tamari say something about an ambassador from Konoha? It took him more than a minute but then it hit him as hard as one of Sakura's punches: Hinata, Hyuuga Hinata, heir of the Hyuuga clan. He remembered her now. He had watched her disinterestedly during the Chuunin exams. He seemed to recall shorter hair back then and an almost constant blush. She had been weak. It was easy to tell that was all in the past. There was no way that little girl could've stood up to him. No, she was strong now although he figured he should be annoyed at the very least. It's not everyday that an abassador from your ally village tries to kill you. For some reason, it didn't anger him. It made him want to...laugh. Such a foriegn action, Gaara mused. He wondered if he was even capable of it.

"Kaze...Kazekage-sama?" Hyuuga's voice shook slightly. Her mouth had closed, forming a thin line of embarrasment and fear. She lowered her gaze from him but to his surprise no hint of blush marred her creamy cheeks. "I'm so sorry. I did not mean to attack you, Kazekage-sama." Her voice no longer wavered. She seemed to be focusing on proving that she was innocent by making sure did not look like she was scared.

Gaara let the sand soften slightly so that its hold was no longer painful but he didn't let go. Hinata didn't try to break away. For all her bravado her arms were shaking slightly. She understood what a great mistake she had made. It might result in war between the villages if the Kazekage thought that her aim had been to kill him. Even if it didn't damage the affairs between the villages, it would surely damage her job. As Gaara took all this in, he realized that she had never activated her Byakukan. If she had, there would've been no doubted that she would've realized who she was attacking. Not one to take the effort to console her, Gaara glared at her before demanding, "Explain."

She executed a somewhat awkward half bow before she spoke, her eyes glued firmly to the ground. "I was training, Kazekage-sama. My Byakukan wasn't activated and I heard a noise from behind me. I'm sorry. It is no excuse...but I was a little upset and I confused you for someone else. When I realized it wasn't who I thought it was, it was already out of control. I'm so very sorry, Kazekage-sama. Please be assured that this was not an intentional attack on your person..." Her voice faded away into the aching silence. She could feel those eyes on her, hot and powerful against the back of her neck.

A small grunt escaped from Gaara's lips and he let her go. She almost stumbled forward but caught herself just in time. Her eyes were wide once more, this time in surprise, not fear. Gaara ignored her as he concentrated on getting his sand back into the gourd. He was glad he still had it in him, but his muscles were weak. He needed training and he had no one to blame, but himself. He walked past the Hyuuga, disgruntled by his interest in her. He knew it was impossible for him to have a relationship with a woman, even without his demon inside him anymore. It was no use dreaming either.

He heard the Hyuuga following him. Gaara looked back. Hinata did not even have the decency to look away anymore. She stared back at him with those strange eyes that seemed to see everything. "Why are you following me?" he asked. His deep voice seemed to vibrate through kunoichi's body. It trembled through her, almost making her speechless. But she refused to be weak, especially when she had fought for so long to become strong and stand on her own two feet. It was a seemingly insignificant incident. But Hinata forced herself to speak just to prove that she could.

She knew she had to trod gently, however, so she took a few seconds to answer. "A person like me shouldn't have been able to get so close to a Kage like you. You came to train, right?" When all he did was stare at her she continued. "You probably don't want a baby sitter, but maybe I can help. Maybe you could spar with me and if you need extra help getting back..." she shrugged. Gaara's intense stare did not let up and Hinata felt increasingly uncomfortable. It had been a while since she had been attracted to Naruto, but to be attracted to Gaara? She had never thought it possible and would've denied it if it weren't for the ever increasing heat in the pit of her stomach. Hinata gave it another shot. "Temari would be less angry if you came back with a companion. I know she gets worried when you go out alone." To Gaara's raised invisible eyebrow she said, "Naruto told me."

His voice came again like a Tsunami of lava. "You are friends with Naruto?" Hinata nodded. "Come," he ordered and Hinata let out a silent, drawn out sigh. For a second she had thought she had blown it.

**AN: Like it? Hate it? Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

Ino watched from up above, smirking. Her blond hair was blowing irritably in the wind and she briefly considered cutting it off, but decided that beauty's price had to be paid. On anyone else, the smile she was wearing would have been labeled a smirk but Yamanaka Ino was too beautiful to smirk. Instead she smiled radiantly and triumphantly, a smile of unconcious seduction. She cackled--laughed delicately as she watched one of her friends fall into another one of her masterly planned match-making plots (ignoring the fact she had never actually considered Hinata ever dating the Kazekage). She flipped her hair dramatically out of her way as she stared at the horizon, striking a pose just in case a prince disguised as a traveler happened to look up and see her dazling radiance. Then, with another glance back at the swiftly disappearing couple, she bounded away to make their prescence known in the Sand Village. Her smile grew wider as she remembered the pictures of Shikamaru she had stashed away in a scroll for a certain blond woman eagerly awaiting her arrival.

Hours later, Hinata stood on shaking legs panting from exertion. Sweat had dampened her hair and accumulated on her forehead. Sometime in the middle of the fight she had discarded her weighted jacket and tied back her long hair. Even so, it had not done much good. Even as she had improved, so had Gaara. He was her equal at the moment and he was out of practice. The exhilaration from the fight was still coursing through her as sharp as the cold air was whistling through her lungs. She signaled a stop. The sun was setting and she was exhausted. She collapsed under the shade of a sand dune and watched as Gaara hesitantly approached. He leaned against the sand but did not sit down. His arms were crossed against his chest and his piercing light eyes were fixed in an indeterminable spot in the distance. She had to crane her neck up to look at him.

There was no obvious evidence that he was aware of her gaze, but she did not doubt it. He refused to look at her, a sure sign that he knew that she was staring. She savored the view for the good part of fifteen minutes before she got uncomfortable. Hinata could tell he was almost as tired as she was. "I would really appreciate it if you sat down." He ignored her. She pouted and tried again. "There is no one here, but me and I know how long you have been training. I think you should rest." Still no answer. Hinata's eyes narrowed slightly. She thought for a minute before she tried again. "If you're just going to stand there, I might as well leave." Finally he responded. His hot, compelling eyes focused on her, burning with intensity. He glared at her before he returned to glaring at the distance.

Hinata made a move to stand. Before she could do more than that, she noticed that his arms were no longer crossed against his chest but resting at his sides, his hands clenched into fists. "Why?" His voice was gruff and unapologetic.

"Why what?" Hinata asked settling back down. She didn't like this new voice. She wanted to do what she could to make it go away.

"Why does it matter whether I sit or stand?"

Hinata was about to retort about his willingness to start a fight when she registered his tone of voice. It hadn't been angry in the least. It had been voiced in what appeared to be genuine puzzlement. Hinata knew what he used to be. She knew how it must have been like to be a jinchuuriki even if she could never imagine living such a life. This powerful man still doubted, still felt the effects of his childhood or lack thereof. Choosing an indirect route she said, "It makes me feel weak and stupid staring at you standing there while I'm down here panting. The least you could do is pretend to be winded."

Gaara was not fooled, but he felt a budding appreciation for the Hyuuga. She had somehow made it so that him resting would not be a weakness but chivalrous act. Gaara thought about it, turning it over and over his head until he decided it was not worth that type of effort to come up with an answer. He was intrigued by the woman and she could tell him about how Naruto was doing. He sat down, keeping his emotions from showing on his face, not a hard thing to do considering the amount of years he had spent practicing the act. She smelled like lilacs. She smelled nice.

The silence stretched almost to the point that Hinata thought she was going to go deaf. Then that heavenly, or devilish, voice washed over her again. It took her a minute for her to realize he was asking after Naruto. Hinata loved Naruto as a brother. Once her romantics feelings concerning him dispersed, she had not given up stalking him. She had started stalking him a long time ago out of an attempt to gather enough courage to talk to him. After that first time, she had done it out of a sense of protectiveness, even if she had never been able to protect him. To this day she did not understand why he was so mistreated, but she continued to trail him. She no longer had any doubt that Naruto knew, especially since every now and then one of his abusers would mysteriously appear in the hospital from mysterious wounds on their chakra systems. He had never said anything. She had followed his lead. This being the case, she also knew many interesting stories about him, including the most recent pranks. Finding common ground, the stories burst forth as if they had just been waiting to be told. She skirted over the bad ones, avoiding them as well as she could.

Finally, long after the sun had set, she ran out of happy stories to tell. She lied down on the sand, after having shrugged her coat back on and stared at the stars. "Do you think we should head back?" she asked, into the sudden silence. She looked back at him. "Aren't you tired?"

"I do not sleep," came the dreadful answer.

**AN: Review!**


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